


Glad We Had This Talk

by paperdream



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s01e02 Annihilation, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Manipulation, Missing Scene, Protective Ainsley Whitly, i needed more ainsley Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 15:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20876216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperdream/pseuds/paperdream
Summary: Ainsley confronts her father over what she found on Malcolm's phone.





	Glad We Had This Talk

**Author's Note:**

> it's almost 3 AM and I should be asleep or at the very least working on homework but instead i wrote this ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ if fandom won't provide me with that good good father daughter content then i guess I'll do it myself

Martin grinned as he turned to face his visitor. "Malcolm! You're back!"

The woman in front of him crossed her arms and glared. "So it's not just the phone calls."

"Ainsley!" he cheered, "It's so _good_ to see you in person! I watch all your broadcasts, of course, but it's not the same-"

"How many times has Malcolm come to visit you since he came home?"

"Did he tell you I called?" Martin leaned forward eagerly.

"I took his phone while he was in the hospital. I heard your voicemails. How many times?" Ainsley's legs tensed, wanting but not willing to take a step back.

"Malcolm was in the hospital? What happened?"

She bit the inside of her lip, unsure whether the look of concern was genuine. "None of your business."

"Of _course_ it's my business!" he snapped. Ainsley tensed her jaw instead of flinching, but he noticed anyway. His voice was calmer when he spoke again, "Everything about you two is my business. You're my children! I _love_ you!"

Ainsley struggled to hold his gaze, steely-eyed and silent.

Martin chuckled awkwardly. "It's good to see you, Ains. Get your mother in here and we could have a regular family reunion!"

"No one wants that," she said flatly. "How many times has Malcolm come to visit you?"

"Oh, a few. He asks for my help with cases now and then, you know. What was he doing in the hospital?"

"How many cases?"

He gave another half laugh, "I see why you're such a good reporter. Do all of your interviewees get the third degree like this, or am I special?"

"How many cases have you 'helped' Malcolm with, _Dad_?" Her voice was filled with icy sarcasm as she repeated the question.

"Well, that quadruple homicide you reported on, for one. Was it fun, getting to work with your brother?" He grinned widely and gestured expansively, "With you reporting, him solving the crimes, and- well. We could have a regular _family empire_!"

Ainsley tossed her hair away from her face, breaking eye contact. "Why do you want him to come visit you so badly? How is leaving _seventeen_ voicemails anything other than a waste of your time?"

Martin tilted his head, "You know, I was under the impression that your brother kept his phone locked. How did you get in to listen to the voicemails?"  
"He showed them to me. He wants you to stop."

He clicked his tongue. "You said you _took _his phone Ains, not that he showed them to you. How did you unlock his phone?" She pursed her lips and didn't answer. He laughed. "You always were devious when you were little. Bad liar, though. It's nice to see that some things don't change, that I still know you." He smiled softly, ducking a step forward with his arms half-extended for an embrace, hindered by the chains keeping his wrists close to his waist.

"You _don't_ know me. Don't touch me." Ainsley stepped back, heels clicking harshly against the floor. He dropped his arms, giving her a hangdog look. She glared back.

"Enough about your brother." Martin sighed and clasped his hands in front of him, breaking the silence after a long moment and trying to regain control of the conversation, "I want to hear about you! We haven't talked since you were five-years-old! What's going on with _Ainsley_?"

"I want you to leave Malcolm alone."

Martin sighed. "Ains…"

"Stop calling him. Stop asking him to visit you. You aren't good for him." Her shoulders squared. "Leave him _alone_."

"Malcolm's an adult. He can make his own choices, and if he wants to come visit me he can," he said, adopting a tone that some deep, buried part of Ainsley's consciousness recognized, an "I'm your father so I'll be the reasonable one," tone she associated distantly with memories of throwing a fit and trying to bash Malcolm's face in over a toy car.

"So can you, for that matter. I've missed you, my little girl…" His expression went distant and wistful for a moment before snapping back to intense focus, "I'd love to see more of you. What's going _on_ in your life, Ainsley? Malcolm hardly tells me anything!"

"Good." She straightened and turned sharply. "Stop calling him."

"Ains! Don't leave!" he tried to reach out, wrist jerking against its cuff. "Don't you want to know what he's asking me about? Or an interview! I'm sure that would help your career…"

Her heels squeaked against the floor as she stopped abruptly, half-turning to face him again. "My _career_ doesn't need your help. I built it myself, in _spite_ of you."

"Of course you did, sweetheart. I didn't mean to imply I have anything other than the utmost faith in your abilities. I just want to _talk_ with you, Ainsley. I want to know more about the woman you've grown into! I want a chance to be your _father_ again. Please, just stay a while."

She eyed him, trying to determine whether the desperation on his face and in his voice was real or feigned. She couldn't tell. "I've done just fine without a father until now. Have a nice life."

She marched toward the door, barely pausing as the guard unlocked it to let her out. Martin shifted his hand in a small wave to her back, calling after her retreating form, "My door is always open! Remember, that, Ains! My door is always open!" Ainsley clenched her jaw and waited until she turned the corner and there was no chance of the man who had been her father seeing to sniffle and blink back tears.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comment or kudos if you like this, concrit welcome! (especially if my dumb 3 AM brain missed any grammar/typos lol)


End file.
